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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
When the Queen Returns

When the Queen Returns

I built Liam Carter's political career from nothing, forging him into a powerful Senate candidate. Our engagement gala, a critical fundraiser, was set to crown us as D.C.'s ultimate power couple. But on that perfect night, the doorbell rang. It wasn't the catering staff; it was Brianna, a junior aide, clutches her very pregnant stomach. "It's Liam's," she whispered. Liam burst in, canceling the gala to manage the "crisis," his eyes colder than ice. He ordered me to stay silent, to protect his career, then swiftly blacklisted me from every connection I had built. Even my own parents sided with him, more concerned with appearances than my broken heart, dismissing his betrayal as a "man's needs." Isolated and professionally ruined, I watched my carefully constructed life unravel. The final blow: Brianna flaunted my hand-knitted scarf, a symbol of our struggles, now a dog bed for her new puppy. That scarf wasn't just fabric; it was a piece of my soul. Seeing it desecrated ignited a rage so pure and hot, it shattered any remaining pretense of civility. This wasn't just politics or business anymore; this was about my life, my history, everything I held sacred. I called Liam. "I want you to lose," I told him. " I want you to feel what it's like to have everything you've ever worked for turn to ash." With a new alliance by my side, I walked out, ready to reclaim my name, my power, and rewrite my future, no matter the cost.
Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior

Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior

Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum. She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection. The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her. Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind. "I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back." How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival. Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.
Forever

Forever

"You must be punished, Eleanor." He rasped, his deep rich voice sending tingles down her spine. Pulling her away from the wall, he hoisted her up on his shoulder. A squeal of horror escaped her lips as she immediately clutched his shirt from back in her tiny fists, eyes looking at the floor in terror, because of his Goddamn mighty height. "Put m-me d-down." She stuttered as he hooked his other arm behind her knees and kept her legs firmly close to his chest. He took big steps and within a few strides, he was in his room, he locked the door making her breath hitch. "W-why are y-you locking the door." She stuttered again. A squeal escaped her lips when her world changed its position again. Leon threw her on the bed and watched her tiny yet luscious frame bouncing on the bed twice. Eleanor raised her body on her elbows as she watched him remove his shirt with ease. Her throat went all dry when her eyes landed on his naked muscular chest, eight freaking packs, and v line. She didn't dare let her eyes trail further down as she snapped her eyes up to meet his silver ones and she stiffened. Dark intense silver pools peered at her. Uh Oh! **** “She's rich, he's a bad boy, a burglar. She's submissive, he's tractable. She's caged, he's wild. She yearns for freedom, his life is adventurous. As the tale says "Opposite attracts!" But then there's this rich man who's overly obsessed with the innocent heiress. A sweet, romantic story filled with lots of action and love but with a dark side.” Hot and Steamy… 18+
Reborn To Claim My CEO Husband

Reborn To Claim My CEO Husband

Elliana Lewis lay dying on the freezing concrete of a federal penitentiary, her ribs shattered by a guard's heavy boot. She had been flawlessly framed for murder by the one person she trusted with her life: her sweet, innocent stepsister, Jovita. During her final prison visit, Jovita wore their mother's diamonds and smiled cruelly behind the glass. She revealed she had liquidated the family company, caused their father's stroke, and paid the guards to ensure Elliana suffered a grueling, agonizing death. "Your marriage was a joke from day one, Ellie. You have nothing left." As her lungs stopped, the tragic truth finally dawned on Elliana. She had spent months screaming for a divorce and publicly humiliating her billionaire husband, Damon Stirling, believing his silence was weakness. She didn't realize until it was too late that his endless tolerance was the deepest form of protection. She had pushed away the only man who would have burned the world down to keep her safe. Why had she been so incredibly stupid? Why did she blindly trust a monster and destroy the only person who truly loved her? Then, a blinding light pierced her retinas. Elliana bolted upright, gasping for air on a massive, king-sized bed. There was no pain. No broken bones. The digital clock on the nightstand flashed a date from exactly ten years ago. It was the morning after her disastrous wedding night. This time, she would tear Jovita's life apart piece by piece. And she would hold onto Damon so tightly that nothing could ever pry them apart.
The Jilted Wife's Dangerous Revenge

The Jilted Wife's Dangerous Revenge

For three years, I played the perfect, invisible contract wife to Angel Wilcox. But last night, after being drugged at a club, he lost control and brutally took my innocence in a freezing bathtub. The next morning, instead of an apology, he threw a million-dollar settlement at me and slapped the divorce papers on the table. His first love, Hillary, had returned from Paris, and he needed to clear the way for her. He called what he did to me a mere inconvenience. When I refused to sign the papers—because my brother would be killed by loan sharks without the Wilcox name to protect him—Angel lost his temper. In the lobby, right in front of a mocking Hillary, he violently shoved me. My head slammed against a massive marble pillar with a sickening thud. "Don't play games with me! Sign the damn papers!" He roared, trying to force the pen into my hand while I lay crumpled on the cold floor. My body was burning with a severe infection from his assault, my wrists were bruised, and my heart was shattered. How could the man I secretly loved for three years treat me like disposable garbage the second she came back? I looked at his furious eyes, then slowly raised my trembling hands to cover my right ear. The same ear that was severely injured in a car crash he caused three years ago. "My ear is ringing. I can't hear you." If he wanted to be ruthless, I would use his deepest guilt to trap him in this marriage forever.
Kidnapped Bride, Unexpected Knight

Kidnapped Bride, Unexpected Knight

My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but I found myself tied to a chair in a dark, moldy basement, a burlap sack ripped from my head. The kidnapper held my phone, reading my fiancé Ethan Riley' s name, demanding a thirty-million-dollar ransom. Desperate, I called Ethan, but his line was busy-forty-nine times. On the fiftieth try, the kidnapper lost his patience, breaking my ribs with a punch, calling me "useless." The physical pain was nothing compared to the cold dread that settled in my heart. Why was he so busy? A week ago, Ethan paid a thirty-million-dollar ransom for his childhood friend, Chloe Davis, without hesitation, abandoning me at our wedding rehearsal to deliver the money himself. Then, a video message from Chloe lit up my phone, which the kidnapper held to my face. Chloe smiled, cooing, "Sorry, Sarah, Ethan's a little busy right now. He's putting my shoes on for me." The camera panned to Ethan, kneeling, gently sliding a crystal-heeled shoe onto her foot. But it wasn' t his devotion that shattered me; it was the dress Chloe was wearing – my wedding dress, the one my mother had made for me. A white-hot rage surged through me. I screamed for the phone, but the kidnapper smashed it, severing my last connection to Ethan. He then dialed Ethan on his burner phone, putting it on speaker, and calmly declared a new ransom: "One dollar. For every time he doesn't answer, I cut off a finger." On the fourth ring, Chloe answered, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Oh, Sarah," she sighed, "You have the worst timing. Ethan's busy getting a band-aid for me." I screamed, "I've been kidnapped! Tell him I've been kidnapped!" Chloe laughed, calling me dramatic. Then, Ethan' s voice, cold and impatient, filled the silence. "Sarah? What is this? Chloe said you're playing some kind of game. Kidnapped? Again? This is a new low, even for you." He hung up. The kidnapper reached for my hand. "Well, it looks like he didn't answer." He severed my pinky finger with rusty pliers. The blinding pain made my world tilt. I begged him to video call Ethan, just so he could see. Ethan appeared, annoyed, with Chloe beside him, dabbing a tiny scratch on her foot. He called me a liar, manipulative, and selfish, accusing me of trying to ruin their wedding. I showed him my mutilated hand, the bloody stump where my pinky used to be. For a second, he hesitated, a flicker of horror in his eyes. But then Chloe shrieked, "That is disgusting, Sarah! Where did you get that fake movie prop?" She sobbed dramatically into Ethan' s chest. His brief doubt vanished, replaced by a storm of protective rage directed at me. "Look what you've done," he snarled. "You're making Chloe cry. All you do is cause pain. You're a monster." He hung up, telling me never to call again. The kidnapper picked up the pliers again, eyeing my ring finger. "Let's get rid of this one next." My ring finger, the one holding all my broken promises, was severed. Then, he live-streamed my torture to the world, revealing me – Sarah Miller, Ethan Riley' s supposed fiancée – bruised, bloody, and broken. Comments flooded the screen: "Fake," "Awesome special effects!" until people recognized me. The kidnapper cursed, ending the feed, but then showed me another video: Ethan and Chloe, at our wedding venue, getting married. Chloe in my dress. Ethan' s voice, clear and steady, saying, "I do." My world went black.